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Boys of The Fort: or, A Young Captain's Pluck
Boys of The Fort; Or, A Young Captain's Pluck
PREFACE
"Boys of the Fort" is a complete story in itself, but forms the fifth volume of a line of works issued under the general title of "Flag of Freedom Series."
In penning this tale I had it in mind to acquaint my young readers with the ins and outs of military life at one of our Western forts of to-day, showing what both officers and privates are called upon to do, and what troubles the Indians and the bad men of that locality are still in the habit of making. The field is one about which little has been written, although abounding in interest, and one which is worthy the attention of all who have the proper development of our country at heart.
To some, certain scenes in this book may appear overdrawn, yet such is far from being the case. In this wild territory there are those who have lived all their lives beyond the pale of civilization, men who grow up dwarfed and crooked in mind, and who resent every effort made to better their condition.
The young captain is a fine specimen of the wide-awake American army officer, yet he is no more brave and dashing than are thousands of others, officers and privates, who serve under our Flag of Freedom. He is trained to do his duty, and he simply does it, regardless of possible consequences.
Once more I take this opportunity to thank my young friends for the kindness with which they have received my former stories, and I earnestly hope this present tale merits equal commendation.
Captain Ralph Bonehill.
July 1, 1901.
CHAPTER I
BOUND FOR THE FORT
"How many miles have we still to ride, Benson?"
"About fifty, Joe. But the last half is pretty much uphill, lad."
"Can we make the fort by to-morrow night?"
"Well, we can try," answered the old scout, who sat astride of a coal-black horse and rode slightly in advance of his two youthful companions. "It will depend somewhat on what the weather does."
"Why, do you think it is going to rain?" put in Darry Germain. "I'm sure it looks clear enough."
"Aint no telling what the weather will do in this valley," answered Sam Benson. "It may stay clear for a week, but to me the signs don't exactly p'int that way," and he shook his head gravely.
"A little rain wouldn't hurt," said Joe Moore. "A couple of miles back the road was fearfully dusty."
"The trouble is, when it rains out here it rains," answered the old scout. "The clouds come a-tumbling over yonder mountains, and inside of half an hour you'd fancy the water was going to drown out everything."
"Then if it rains we'll have to put up somewhere," said Darry Germain.
"Aint no cabin on this trail short of Hank Leeson's place, twenty miles this side of the fort. If we can get that far I reckon we can make the fort."